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George Krokos Oct 2023
Even if it's heads or tails
either side You always win.
Your own system never fails
ev'rything else wears out thin.
____
From 'The Quatrains' - #629, ongoing writings since the early '90's.
A M Ryder Jun 2023
Something is about
To happen that
We are not aware of
Our only chance
Is to keep our
Heads low and
Act like we're
Changed men
Because we're
Very close to
The end
We need to be
Okay with mysteries
And the stories
They breed
There will always be
Far more questions
Than there are
Actual answers
In this universe and
We need to be
Ok with that
That Girl Oct 2020
I found a penny face up.
I flicked it off because luck doesn't exist.
At least not for me.
I picked it up and turned it to tails.
If I can't get any luck no one else can.
People say misery loves company,
But I'm just tired of things working out for everyone else but me.
I think I'm last on everyones list.
I'm the pocket change in the bottom of a purse.
I'm the last resort,
When people are desperate for some change,
Turning their purses upside down,
Throwing couch cushions,
Hoping for some luck.
I'm a lot like a penny.
But if I were a penny I'd have tails on both sides.
**** pennies.
Bhill Apr 2020
the severity of the broken minds lays out in the street
in the streets covered in outrageous and unfair drama
drama drawn from within
within the information floating about in the heads of the media
off with their heads is the call from the watchers
off with their heads

Brian Hill - 2020 # 112
Well, do you understand?
John McCafferty Feb 2020
Yellow and lime
Distinct in rhyme
Have raised their heads before their time
Wordsworth's words sought in kind

Intent rearranged as the gaze has changed with age
Do Daffodils cheer me up?
Not so vast in a public park

For experience raises expectations
or am I the holder of a colder heart
further inline set to depart

A voice stored inside reminds
with a twinkle in his eye that
'Variety is the spice of life'
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
Poetic T Jan 2020
Making my way up town,
         chaves  all-round.

And single mums with multiple
                          fathers wondering
                 with pushchairs  around.

And the kids miss there dads,
               one of there
                    multiple other half's..

        but mummy doesn't let
                           them come around.

Staring blankly ahead the crack heads
          head off to the job centre to
                  collect that Jiro that'll be...

Be in there arm, and they need it,
             and they want it now.
                       But the dealer got busted
before there next round.....

And people stare and  wander if they'll be
                   pretending to be homeless,
             scrounging for those lose coins
to get there
                  next fix injected down.

Making my way up town,
                people passing me by,

So many people walking around there
   cant be this much dole dosers
                                          walking around.

I sit on a seat and watch the world
                                                pass me by.
                              And I, and I just wonder

how many kids are walking around the town
               when schools open.
Yet I see them chaving around,
     the country is doomed,
                     as I see them plodding aimlessly

                

                                               around ..


This is me making my way up town,
            and I wonder if I'll get mugged
                      by some ****** that can't get a
job cos there benefits pay more than my

                       full time job makes,

But I still need this watch,
             but I wonder if I hadn't battered the
  **** out of this ****, would I have seen tonight.

Making my up town knuckles bruised with satisfaction.

  That I made my way up town, and I know that
                          I'll smile in the crowd because ill
           be proud after my shift


that I come home to you tonight.
this is a parody of making my way down town song.
Colm Oct 2019
A waivering head
With memories coursing though every finger
A grip on sleep once lost
Is held directly in hand
Though it cannot hold a candle to the perfect dark
But to pay the waking watchman's toll
Over and over again
Is no good for a weary traveler stead
Instead it's said, once lost in dreams
Such a peaceful hopeful magnificence
May be never found again
Let alone remembered upon awaking
It's hard to sleep in such a manner. Slightly torturous in truth.
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